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fan_flashworks2020-12-31 02:04 pm
schoolsasaint) wrote in fan_flashworks2020-12-31 02:04 pm
Entry tags:
Cloud Challenge: The Hobbit: Fanfic: Mutable Shapes
Title: Mutable Shapes
Fandom: The Hobbit
Rating: General Audiences
Length: 405
Summary: There were Rangers who found their entertainment in battle (typically closely watched by their brethren, to forestall a move towards easier pursuits) but most cultivated simpler pleasures.
The life of a Ranger cultivated in oneself a mindset of enduring practicality and an ability to turn towards subsisting off the bounty land, frugal as it may prove in those that chose to follow it. Not for them the great halls and weeklong feasting, fine coats and sagas sung. Theirs were the clothes hardworn and sturdy, the long days and longer nights and the transient companionships of the road.
Theirs too, the lives saved, the friends met returning, the great span of hill and dale unending.
A hard life, to be sure, and one that could grow monotonous at times. Some among their number threw themselves into strife to break the dullness, finding entertainment in battle against what orcs could be found near roads, the goblins by the mountain passes, or set out with caravans to encounter bandits no matter their race. Those were the kind that other Rangers kept an eye on, and a steadying hand, that their blade not be turned to other pursuits. Few are. Their is a pride to those that swear to the oath, one that does not easily let such travesties pass.
Others, less needful of bloodrush and arrow sung, fought too those enemies that preyed upon the peoples of Arda, but found their pleasures elsewhere. Caught between the need for food and supply, coin was scarce without a patron lord or town service sworn, but they were creative enough to make do without much in the way of the trade in metal.
As such, cloudwatching and smokeblowing are fine and popular forms of relaxation for any Ranger, combining a maximum of portability and affordability while still allowing a degree of the situational awareness they have made their characteristic. Especially for a Ranger near the Shire, with it's fine supply of pipe-weed and rolling hills of soft grass to aid such endeavors.
A Rangers duties are hard, but protection of the young on fine summers day is not such a trial. Not with such company as is at hand.
"That one there looks, hmm ... like a bunny."
"A fine eye, young master Bandybuck. I would have thought it a hare."
"Hm. Yes, I could see how one could make that mistake. Too round, though. My mothers aunt on her fathers side has some, should you have the chance to stop in and take note."
"I shall endeavor to do so, when next I pass near the Brandywine."
Fandom: The Hobbit
Rating: General Audiences
Length: 405
Summary: There were Rangers who found their entertainment in battle (typically closely watched by their brethren, to forestall a move towards easier pursuits) but most cultivated simpler pleasures.
The life of a Ranger cultivated in oneself a mindset of enduring practicality and an ability to turn towards subsisting off the bounty land, frugal as it may prove in those that chose to follow it. Not for them the great halls and weeklong feasting, fine coats and sagas sung. Theirs were the clothes hardworn and sturdy, the long days and longer nights and the transient companionships of the road.
Theirs too, the lives saved, the friends met returning, the great span of hill and dale unending.
A hard life, to be sure, and one that could grow monotonous at times. Some among their number threw themselves into strife to break the dullness, finding entertainment in battle against what orcs could be found near roads, the goblins by the mountain passes, or set out with caravans to encounter bandits no matter their race. Those were the kind that other Rangers kept an eye on, and a steadying hand, that their blade not be turned to other pursuits. Few are. Their is a pride to those that swear to the oath, one that does not easily let such travesties pass.
Others, less needful of bloodrush and arrow sung, fought too those enemies that preyed upon the peoples of Arda, but found their pleasures elsewhere. Caught between the need for food and supply, coin was scarce without a patron lord or town service sworn, but they were creative enough to make do without much in the way of the trade in metal.
As such, cloudwatching and smokeblowing are fine and popular forms of relaxation for any Ranger, combining a maximum of portability and affordability while still allowing a degree of the situational awareness they have made their characteristic. Especially for a Ranger near the Shire, with it's fine supply of pipe-weed and rolling hills of soft grass to aid such endeavors.
A Rangers duties are hard, but protection of the young on fine summers day is not such a trial. Not with such company as is at hand.
"That one there looks, hmm ... like a bunny."
"A fine eye, young master Bandybuck. I would have thought it a hare."
"Hm. Yes, I could see how one could make that mistake. Too round, though. My mothers aunt on her fathers side has some, should you have the chance to stop in and take note."
"I shall endeavor to do so, when next I pass near the Brandywine."